


God I Hate Shakespeare

by hitmewiththatfanart33



Series: Sanders Sides Oneshots [6]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Prinxiety - Freeform, Roommates, Song from Something Rotten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24833995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitmewiththatfanart33/pseuds/hitmewiththatfanart33
Summary: Roman, Virgil, and Patton return home from a night out, drunk, and Patton decides to go to bed when the other two get into another of their usual playful arguments. This time the argument was about Shakespeare. Things get... heated.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Series: Sanders Sides Oneshots [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796293
Kudos: 72





	God I Hate Shakespeare

It was another normal day in their apartment with Patton giggling on the couch, Logan off somewhere doing work, and Roman and Virgil getting into yet another tussle over something incredibly ridiculous. It was always an amusing sight. It made their apartment feel more alive with all the voices and noise and energy, though it was also one of the reasons Logan spent a lot of time in his room. (Patton could get him to come out without a problem, however.)

This night was different, however, because they'd all just gotten back from drinking— Logan only hadn't come along because he had a project that needed finishing— and when Virgil and Roman drank, everything became somehow even more dramatic. Virgil was looser, more relaxed, but this ease made him more vocal. And Roman seemed to be just playing the role of himself in a dramatized movie. All of them trailed into the apartment, jackets getting peeled off, and Patton tossing the keys onto the counter, as he had been their designated driver for the night.

"I'm **_so_** gay!" Roman sang, fingers fiddling with the top few buttons of his white shirt as he kicked off his shoes. Virgil snorted in response.

Patton chuckled. "We _know_ , kiddo." Virgil and Roman flopped down onto the couch simultaneously, and Patton smiled while tucking himself slowly into the corner to watch them.

Once settled, Virgil took a breath, opening his mouth to speak, but having to think about it a moment longer before promptly turning to Roman on the couch. "Have I ever told you that I hate Shakespeare?" Roman gave him a look of utmost horror.

Virgil smirked, mentally cracking his knuckles to rile Roman up. "That's right, I said it." He'd draw every last drop of offense out of Roman he could, watching in glee as his ears began turning red.

"No!" he feigned.

"I do! I hate Shakespeare," he restated, laughing a little.

"Why?!"

He shrugged. "I just don't get it. A mediocre actor from a measly little village is suddenly the brightest jewel in England's royal crown?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Doesn't make sense. And his plays are wordy, no regard to the audience. Every time you drag me along to one of his plays at the local theatre, my ass is numb halfway through," he complained.

"Virgil, I love you, but how could you say that?!" Roman asked dramatically, grabbing his face and looking him dead in the eyes. He was smooshing Virgil's face, and if he weren't blushing, his glare would have looked threatening.

"Easy. Because it's absolutely true," he stubbornly defended. Roman let go of his face, leaning back again. The movement made his slightly opened shirt pull apart, and exposed his chest in a way that darkened Virgil's blush.

 _Roman had said he loved him_ , which was a rare occurrence. He'd smooshed his face while he did it. He'd looked him in the eyes, and yes, Virgil knew it was said platonically, but the words meant something else to him when all he could think about was how much he utterly admired Roman.

"Don't be a dick... The man is a _genius_." Roman, the hopeless romantic, was terribly upset by this.

"His genius," Virgil began, tilting his head earnestly at Roman, "Is that he's fooling you."

Roman leapt to his feet— totally not swaying— in a rush of passion and need to dramatically monologue like the theatre dork he was. "But he's brilliant!" he argued, "What majesty flows from his pen, his poetry soars like..." _Pen, pen, what rhymes with pen?_ "—a sweet violin! God's own inspiration— like lightning— doth strike him..." Aaaaaaand he was out of ideas. "And he just captures my soul, okay?" he whined, pouting and crossing his arms like a child. At least he was cute.

"Aw, jeez, you sound just like him," Virgil cooed fakely, teasing him.

Roman was bad at reading sarcasm sometimes, and got easily distracted by any sort of compliment. "Really?" he blushed, his stiff posture of resistance melting against the words. "Thanks..."

Virgil shook his head and chuckled, too endeared by his adorable reaction to tell Roman he meant it in a mean way without feeling bad. "As a creator, _you_ should hate Shakespeare," he informed him. His chin dropped down to touch his throat, letting out a small, breathy burp with raised eyebrows then shaking his head at the grossness of it.

Roman scrunched his nose. "Well I don't," he protested with a huff, "I try to emulate him." He tilted his chin up haughtily, and refused to look at Virgil.

The emo just scoffed. "Well there's your problem. You're so blinded by _the Bard_. The pompous bastard—"

"I don't see how that's a problem. So what if I'm a fan—"

"Uh-Uh. I wasn't finished... Cause he's a hack with a knack for stealing shit," Virgil claimed without providing any real evidence.

"You should be ashamed! The Bard is no thief... _and_ he knows how to write a bitchin' play," Roman pointed out. He flopped back down on the couch next to Virgil, holding his knees and leaning towards his face again. "You just wish you could write a play as good as his, and I wish that I could be in one."

Virgil could smell the alcohol on his breath with how close he was. "I _wish_ ," he said, playfully pushing Roman away from him to where he flopped down on his back on the couch, legs laying across Virgil's lap, "that people would stop putting on his plays."

Roman snorted, staring at the ceiling, as he was too lazy to get up again. "We all know that's not going to happen... He's renowned for being the greatest writer in English history," he tiredly slurred.

"Okay... that is an overstatement. His so-called fans only think that because they're all just bandwagoning." His face pulled up into that of a mocking one, and his voice became obnoxious when he said, " _A rose by any other name_. Ooh _so_ clever..." He made a gagging motion. "I just— I hate him," he confirmed.

"I get it. You hate Shakespeare. Good for you," Roman announced, waving his hands around sarcastically, then letting them flop back down and hit his chest.

"And that stupid frilly collar..." Virgil was laughing again at this point. "Talk about poster child for why nobody should ever procreate..."

Roman growled at him, his face buried in his hands in embarrassment at pretty much losing the argument because he hadn't said as much.

"In short... I hate Shakespeare," Virgil quipped.

Roman peeked through his fingers, lifting his head from the couch to look at him with a sudden idea. Oh Virgil would _hate_ him. He sat up, and shifted around until he was on his hands and knees, crawling towards Virgil. Once again, he invaded his personal space, his other hand gripping his thigh as he evilly caressed his face, reveling in his pink cheeks as he gave him a sympathetic look. "Oh, Vergilius... If that's how you're going to be, then can I just say... My Chemical Romance—"

Virgil's eyes widened, and for a brief moment Roman feared for his life. "Don't you dare fucking say it," he threatened. Then they were right back at it again with a new argument, and Patton just groaned, eventually heading to bed... in Logan's room, though the two boys were too occupied to notice.

***

"Shut up!" Virgil demanded.

"Make me," he challenged, leaning close to his face with a devilish smirk. Roman knew very well what he was doing, the implications.

"You're such a brat," Virgil muttered, annoyed, though his eyes said something else as he started thinking about how close they were, the words they'd exchanged, and how goddamn stubborn Roman was. He tugged him forward by the two open halves of his shirt, letting their lips collide in a wet, drunken mess, and it wasn't long until Roman had nudged him into laying down.

Virgil broke their lips a moment, looking up into Roman's smooth eyes breathily. He chuckled with a shake of his head. "You better not make me regret this, Princey."

Roman's eyes crinkled in a smile. "Me? Never, my poet," he teased.

Virgil huffed. " _My Chemical Roman_ ," he shot back, proud of himself for that one.

"Oh, I'm getting you for that one." Roman attacked him with his lips again, and Virgil squealed. " _Shhhhhhh_ ," he hushed against his neck, laughing to himself.

"Make me."


End file.
